


Rather Be

by knightinbrightfeathers



Category: The Strange Case of Starship Iris (Podcast)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Femslash, Pre-Relationship, i made this so ishani would be proud of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16964886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinbrightfeathers/pseuds/knightinbrightfeathers
Summary: Five times Violet misses her life on the Iris, and one time she doesn't.





	Rather Be

**Author's Note:**

> Since tscosi is still ongoing and I haven't even listened to episode 9 yet, just think of this as canon-adjacent. Also, a big, super thank you to the wonderful actor who voices Brian for the Dwarnian dictionary they put together.  
> If any vocab is off please tell me.

-1-

Sometimes Violet thinks back to her quiet lab on the Iris with a sort of fondness. It had a really nice centrifuge and the good litmus paper. Plus, it was an actual lab and not, you know, a closet with a beanbag.

Above all, it was _quiet_. There was the hum of the engines and the various cooling units, sure, but there weren’t two crew members crowding her against the wobbly little shelf that passes as a table here and asking her very, very uninformed questions.

“Is my DNA the coolest you’ve seen? I bet it is.”

“Yeah dude, I’m pretty sure you can’t rate coolness on, like, an objective scale.”

“Crewman Jeeter, as much as I love you, and you know that I do…”

“I love you too.”

“Aw, thanks! Anyway, I don’t think you understand how totally awesome my sweet alien DNA is to a human scientist.”

“Guys,” Violet says, looking up from her very cheap microscope, “I can’t see your DNA with this. I’m just checking to see if Krejjh’s epidermis cells are similar enough to our skin grafts for them to use the mouth patches we have.”

“Awww,” Krejjh says. “But my DNA is still cool, right?”

“I-” Violet rubs her temples. “I guess?”

“So can I use the mouth patches?”

Violet sighs. “Yes, but please don’t eat those chili lemon snacks anymore.”

“But they’re so good! They taste almost like _eej’flix_. Except crunchier.”

“Uh,” Brian says, patting Krejjh’s arm. “They burned the inside of your mouth.”

“Well, duh! _Eej’flix_ is a test of bravery as well as a tasty snack! Just like their jingle says, _Hameeshen dorshye’twa nash, ett zlefir dorshye nash hani eej’flix!_ ”

Violet looks at Brian.

“Oh, um...it’s a play on words, but basically it means ‘warriors burn for the glory, and your mouth can burn for the glory of _eej’flix_.”

“...Cool,” Violet says. “Do you want to apply the mouth patches, or do you want me to help you?”

“Can Crewman Jeeter apply them to my mouth with his tongue?” Krejjh asks brightly.

“ _No_.”

“That’s fair.” Krejjh shrugs, a complicated four-armed wave of motion. “I think I’ll still do it on my own. Just stick and wait, right?”

Violet nods and hands over two thin stickers, each a miracle of modern medicine that can quickly heal heat and acid burns on delicate skin, being used to cure chemical burns made by an off-brand snack. “Keep your mouth open for three minutes so they dry in place.”

Krejjh opens their mouth and pokes the patches into place. “Ih hee hyeah.”

Violet wipes a speck of Dwarnian spittle off her cheek. “I don’t think I need to observe the entire three minutes.”

“Hu hi ah ehihah eehaha!”

“Yeah, I can’t understand any of that.”

Brian rubs his chin. “Same. C’mon, Krejjh, let’s go to the cockpit and show Sana that we followed instructions.”

“Oa eh,” Krejjh agrees, and they squeeze out of Violet’s closet with only mild jostling, which nevertheless manages to upset the stack of bandages she’d spent last Wednesday organizing.

-2-

“We really need to land somewhere and stock up,” Sana says.

“Haven’t we got any of those noodles left?” Krejjh asks. “I liked those.”

“All out.”

“Not even in the pantry?”

Sana shakes her head. “The pantry’s down to flatpack crackers and dehydrated protein cubes.”

“What flavor?” Brian asks.

“Cheeseburger.”

Brian shudders. “The only thing that should taste like cheeseburger is cheeseburgers.”

The entire crew sighs and goes back to staring at the bare kitchen cupboards. Space travel is all well and good, but stasis chambers that keep food fresh and tasty are expensive. Small ships (like the Rumor) and those who can’t afford it (like the Rumor) get by on dry, dehydrated, and instant everything. Violet’s lost track of the types of knockoff instant noodles she’s eaten on board. Some of them were flavors she’s never seen, and she used to be a college student. But even instant ramen runs out at some point, especially when someone tries to arrest or kill you at every other port. It’s hard to restock the pantry when someone’s shooting at you. She misses fruit. The Iris had _strawberries_.

“I could make traditional _shielta_ ,” Krejjh offers. “With some changes. Well, a lot of changes. I’m pretty sure I can make the fish sauce stand in for _nsetrjzz_. And cheese is basically _ssayik_.”

“Those are lotus pickles, Krejjh.”

“Oh. Then never mind. Are there any Skittles left?”

“We are not eating weird alien Skittles soup,” Arkady says, looking up from her attempts to break apart the solid lump of _something_ in an unlabeled tin she’d found.

“It’s more like a casserole,” Brian says, over Krejjh making indignant noises.

“Why don’t we just make rebel stew?” Sana suggests brightly.

Everyone except Violet groans.

“Wait, what’s rebel stew?” Violet asks.

“Whenever we run out of food, the captain here,” Arkady points the spoon she’s excavating the tin with at Sana, “makes her specialty for little rebels on the run. It’s basically everything we have left cooked into mush.”

“Grey mush,” Brain adds.

“Don’t forget the one time it was orange.”

“With burnt bits floating on top.”

“It’s good for you!” Sana protests. “It’s got all the food groups!”

“That’s what you say,” Arkady says. “It’s not like we could tell the difference if you just boiled a shoe into submission.” She scrapes some of the stuff from the tin into a bowl and adds water, producing dirty white mud.

At least, Violet thinks, they won’t run out of water, although the recycled stuff does start tasting flat after a while.

“Yeah, nobody wants rebel stew, captain! No offence.”

“None taken, Krejjh.”

“So can I make _shielta_?”

“No.”

Violet watches as Arkady’s mud, with the addition of a hefty dose of chili flakes, goes into the microwave.

“Sorry, buddy,” Brian says, patting a pouting Krejjh on an arm. “You’re really not supposed to cook Skittles.”

Just before the microwave _ding_ s, Arkady opens it and retrieves her now-steaming mud.

“What about halwa?”

“You can’t cook my halwa, Krejjh.”

“Technically you are supposed to cook-”

“Brian Jeeter, if you cook my black market _karachi halwa_ into casserole, I swear to the stars that I will make you regret it.”

“She would, too,” Arkady murmurs to Violet.

“Huh?” Violet looks away from the squabble in front of her to the bowl Arkady’s shoved under her nose. It’s so close to her face that looking at the spoon makes her eyes cross.

“I call it sad congee,” Arkady says. “For sad spacers.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She takes the bowl, sniffing at the contents. It smells like nothing much. A careful spoonful reveals that it tastes the way it smells, except for the occasional bite of chili.

“Bon appetit,” Arkady says, spooning the thin congee into her mouth.

Violet eats another spoonful. At least it’s not Dwarnian Skittles casserole.

-3-

Violet’s parents love bad action movies. She has memories of sneaking out of her room after bedtime as a child and stealth-watching a few minutes of explosions before her mom inevitably caught her and tucked her back in. When she was older, they’d let her watch with them, laughing at the cheesy one-liners and trying to crack sunflower seeds without getting a mouthful of shell. So she’s seen plenty of interrogation rooms, where beefy men get tied up, beaten and questioned by other beefy men. This one’s almost disappointing. No bright white lights and two-way mirrors, but no damp concrete and rats either. It’s just a room with a table, two chairs, and a rather good lock on the door. Her hands _are_ cuffed to the table, but there’s plenty of wiggle room. Enough to take the cup of coffee the Agent in front of her is offering.

“No, thank you.”

“It’s pretty good. From the cafe round the corner, not office swill. I thought maybe you hadn’t had good coffee in a while.”

Violet’s stomach turns over. “I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” Agent Blake says, shrugging and taking a sip of her own coffee. She sits down, crossing her legs and smiling at Violet, vaguely patient and welcoming. “What were we talking about?”

Violet presses her lips together.

The smile becomes a little amused, like she’s a child being stubborn. “Right, we were talking about the Rumor. It must have been quite a change from what you knew. You studied at a top college and went on to work at well-funded labs before you were offered the position of Science Officer aboard the Iris, which had state-of-the-art facilities. And now you’re working out of a closet.” Blake shakes her head. “I gotta admit, Violet, I would have been in shock. You had it good-”

Violet snorts. She can’t help it.

“You did. You had a job, a future, family. And now you’re hanging out with a bunch of fugitives, one of whom is a Dwarnian. The _enemy_ , Violet.”

“There’s a peace treaty.”

Blake just looks a little condescending. “Of course. Really, Violet, it’s a little disappointing that you threw away everything for a life of crime.”

“You tried to blow up my spaceship and kill the entire crew! Those fugitives you’re talking about saved my life.”

“Blow up your spaceship? Violet, there was an unfortunate accident. You were scared and you panicked, which is understandable. But no-one tried to kill you!”

Violet stares at her.

“Really,” Blake says. “It’s not like you were a criminal or a liability. Just a moderately talented scientist.” She laughs, and it makes Violet feel small. "That wouldn't be a very efficient use of resources, would it?"

Blake keeps talking and talking, and Violet lets it flow over her. She tries not to listen, but it’s almost instinctive to slip back into that doublethink, agreeing that what you _know_ isn’t really _true_ , is it. Burying what she really thinks and feels underneath a layer of what everybody knows. Shrinking herself down into something palatable, something that fits in with what the person in front of her wants to be. It’s natural. She’s been doing it her whole life. It’s easy.

So much easier to ignore the facts when the alternative lets you keep living the life you’re used to. So much easier to agree when it keeps you safe.

The door slams open.

Violet’s head flies up. Agent Blake is already on her feet, gun out, but it doesn’t matter because Sana tazes her with a weapon that must be stolen and she’s down, twitching on the floor.

“ _Alhamdulillah_ , you’re fine,” Sana says, hurrying over and popping Violet’s cuffs open. “Arkady’s distracting them but I don’t know how long it’ll work so we need to go now.”

Violet looks up at her, and for a moment something inside her says _no, I’m staying here like a good citizen_ -

“Violet, come on, we need to run,” Sana says, tugging on her arm, and Violet nods and they’re running out the door.

-4-

The moment Arkady pushes her and Sana into the ship, Krejjh shouts "Hold onto your nostrils," over the speakers, and they're off to the fainter sound of Brian reminding Krejjh that human nostrils don't fall off. The Rumor is often stretched to the limit of its abilities, and this escape is no different. Violet lurches halfway across the airlock as the ship is thrown into full speed from a standstill with no stops in between.

Arkady catches her before she slams into a wall. The movement makes her hiss, but she pulls Violet in anyway, hooking Violet's hand into a harness and holding it in place with her own hand.

"You're hurt," Violet says dully.

"Yeah, one of the guards was a little faster on the uptake than I expected. It's nothing serious."

"You're bleeding, Arkady," Sana says drily.

"I mean, just a little."

"We have a medic on board now, you can't lie and hide in your room until it scabs."

"The medic just got rescued from jail. No rush, Violet." Arkady shrugs, which makes her wince again. "Ow."

"No, I need to," Violet says, her voice coming from far away. She lets go of the handhold, but not of Arkady's hand.

"Um-"  
"Go with the medic, First Mate Patel," Sana says. "Krejjh isn't going crazy with the steering anymore. We’re safe. Just go."

"Yeah, okay." She follows Violet into the lab, takes off her shirt and lets Violet inspect her for injury. She's peppered with short, deep scratches that bleed sluggishly and her right shoulder is swollen and sensitive when Violet pokes it, although she tries to hide it.

Violet pokes it again.

"Ow," Arkady says grudgingly.

"I need to clean out the scratches," Violet says absently. "And bring down the swelling." She gets up to fetch a cold pack, snapping it in half to activate it and pressing it to Arkady's shoulder. "Hold this."

Arkady does. Violet can feel those eyes on her back as she fetches the rubbing alcohol. She's fine. She feels perfectly steady. There's no reason for her hands to shake like that, but they do, and rubbing alcohol soaks the gauze and splashes onto the counter.

"We're out of gauze," Violet says, and bursts into tears.

"Damn it," Arkady says. "Vi-" She gets up from the one chair in the lab, reaching awkwardly with her right hand to pat Violet's back. "Hey, it's ok. You're safe now."

"Safe!" It comes out as a wet laugh. "We’re not safe. We're criminals, and this ship has no proper medical equipment."

"It's just a sprain and some scratches. It's not like I need an X-ray."

"This time. God, I just-" Violet shakes her head violently. "You're my patient. I can't – I need to-" She throws out the gauze. "Cotton pads. I can use those." Then she starts crying again.

"Hey, hey, Violet, breathe."

"Don't tell me to breathe! You could have died!"

"Nah, those guys were losers."

"Shut up! Sana – and you – and Brian and Krejjh, too, if they'd found the Rumor – and this fucking ship never has enough of anything! What if your scratches get infected, I ran out of antibiotics last week and I – I can't – I can't _lose_ you."

"You won't lose us."

"I can't lose _you_ ," Violet says savagely. She pulls away from Arkady, takes a deep breath and wipes her tears away. "Okay. Sit down." She pulls out the cotton pads. Her hands shake, but less than before.

"Um, are we going to talk about - ?"

"Sit down," Violet says.

Arkady sits, submitting to Violet's efficient treatment in silence.

"Try not to move your shoulder for at least 24 hours. Try not to move around much at all or you'll start bleeding through the bandages."

"Okay," Arkady says. She tries to catch Violet's hand, but the motion strains her shoulder. At the wince this elicits, pain flickers through Violet's expression, and she steps away from the chair.

"Okay," Arkady says again, softly, and leaves.

-5-

The datapad on her lap casts a cool blue glow that flickers just a little, a glitch born of who-knows-what. The messaging app she's pulled up barely loaded, and the icon at the top of the screen informs her that the connection is weak.

She could write something. Or she could use the app's voice recording feature and send a vocal message. And her parents would know that she's alive.

The cursor onscreen blinks in the empty textbox. Blink, blink, blink, in time with the soft shuffle of footsteps behind her.

"Hey," Brian says, sitting down next to her. "Are you okay?"

"No."

"Stupid question, huh." He glances at the screen, and Violet tenses. "Who are you writing to?"

"No one. I know I can't contact anybody."

Brian gives her a look.

"My parents," Violet admits. "I just wish – I wish I could talk to them, you know? I miss being a normal citizen that could talk to her family."

"Yeah," Brian says softly.

Violet passes him the tablet, and he closes the app.

"Wanna watch Dwarnian soaps?"

"Not really."

"Want some tea?"

Violet shakes her head. "Can we just sit here for a bit?"

"Sure."

-1-

"Attention all crewmembers, this is your pilot speaking. I have been asked by Captain Trapathi to request your presence in the main room. I will be joining you in a few moments just as soon as I can turn on the autopilot. Krejjh out."

Violet sets down her notes and rubs her eyes. Hopefully whatever this is won't last long. She's tired of discussing bad news, and just tired in general.

When she sees the main room, she almost rubs her eyes again. The room has been transformed. Piles of blankets and pillows are arranged on the floor, along with the ever-present bean bag. One wall is covered with a white sheet, and a projector stands across the room from it, throwing static on the sheet. Peppy music plays in the background, light voices harmonizing.

"Man, I love Sana, but she has the worst taste in music," Arkady says, and Violet squeaks. A head pops up from a nest of blankets, and Arkady smiles sheepishly at her. "Sorry, I think the blankets are trying to eat me."

A little laugh escapes Violet. "That sounds fun."

"Wanna join me?" Arkady asks. Her face immediately does _things_ , like she's not sure if she should have said what she said, but Violet just sits down next to her and the _things_ turn into a smile.

"So what is this?" she asks.

"Movie night!" Sana sings from the door.

"The most great and noble tradition of space travel," Brian agrees, trailing in after her. "Also, snacks." He tosses a bag of off-brand cheese puffs at them.

"Oooh, snacks," Krejjh says, bouncing through the doorway and grabbing a bag of their own. "Are there shrimpy things?"

"Of course there are," Brian says, handing over a bright red bag.

"Brian Jeeter, have I ever told you that you’re the best fiancé ever?"

"Sure, but it's always nice to hear it again."

"Gross," Arkady mutters, but she grins when Violet nudges her. "Hey Captain, can we turn off the K-pop?"

"One day you'll learn to appreciate my music, Arkady."

"Don't hold your breath." Arkady gets up to turn the music off herself. When she settles back in the blankets next to Violet, she sits a little closer than before, and Violet's stomach flutters.

"Okay, people, it’s movie time," Sana says. She slaps the projector. "This baby holds so many old Earth classics, and today we're watching that timeless tale of true love, adventure, and comedy, Shrek."

"Ugh, old Earth animation is so clunky," Krejjh complains.

"It's a _classic_ ," Sana says, fiddling with the settings before giving up and banging on the side of the projector. With a faint whirring sound, the sheet fills with bright color.

Violet leans back against the pillows. "This is nice."

"Yeah, movie nights are great," Arkady says. "Cheese puffs?"

"Thank you."

"Shhhh," Sana hisses, eyes fixed on the movie.

In the dark, surrounded by friends and blankets, Violet falls asleep on Arkady's shoulder.


End file.
